


Absence

by Drocell



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Flash Fic, Friendship, Gen, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drocell/pseuds/Drocell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle never came around anymore. [Sequel to Conversation]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> 500 words exactly.
> 
> **Characters:** Doyle &amp; unnamed bartender.

He never came back. It had been three weeks, and Doyle's face was never among the crowd that came in during happy hour. People came, and people went. Bar fights still broke out every now and then, and 'tenders still tended to the clients of the bustling bar. The atmosphere was still the same, and no one really noticed a missing face. Doyle had kept to himself, only keeping conversation with a certain bartender. It only made sense that one person noticed his missing presence.

Hazel eyes always looked towards the entrance, even during the busiest hours of the night. When people were ordering drinks left and right, and drunks were always starting fights with their useless babble, the bartender still stole glances towards the entrance. She balanced work with the absence of her favorite customer. A man she considered a friend.

He came to the bar to drink away whatever was causing him such misery. He wasn't unlike anyone else there. Everyone had something they wanted to forget.

Though, his visits soon revolved more around companionship. After awhile, the emotion in his eyes changed. His first visits, where he went close to being unnoticed, were reflected in dull, and rejected blue hues. Near the end though, his eyes were alive again, echoing emotions such as, compassion and, perhaps, a tint of hope. Except for the last night he was sitting alone on the stool, sipping his Scotch. Emptiness resonated in his familiar blue eyes as he conversed with the bartender.

She recalled his tone as bleak and hopeless.

The bartender fixed a glass of Scotch, and shuffled down to the end of the bar. It was near closing time now, and most patrons had stumbled out the doors, and into the dark night. A crowd still lingered within the bar though, and 'tenders hurried to refill their drinks. No one had patience anymore.

An exhausted sigh passed her lips as she sat the glass onto the counter. It was the seat that Doyle always frequented. With slouched shoulders, he'd lean onto the counter with a tired grin of his own. No one sat there tonight.

She turned away from the empty seat, fixing a mug of her own strange concoction. She always drank it when he was there. Something's don't change, something's remain the same. Turning around, she fixed her gaze on the Scotch, and leaned her back against the counter filled with different beverages.

The 'tender recalled the faint conversation she last had with Doyle.

"I guess it wasn't just a feeling after all," she murmured.

Doyle wasn't coming back. He wasn't going to drink that Scotch that waited for him. He wasn't going to walk through the doors at any moment. Her friend wasn't coming back. Hazel eyes stared over the rim of the mug as she took a slow sip.

"You were a good man," she smiled lightly. "Good men shouldn't disappear."

The bartender closed her eyes. "Thanks for those conversations, prince."


End file.
